Not that I’m not behind with it. I am. Woefully.
I just, for the first year ever, don’t care. I’m having far too much fun enjoying the festive atmosphere to worry about it.
Because we always spend the Christmas holidays in Wales, with our families, we tend to put up our tree and decorations on the first weekend of December. And this year, that serendipitously coincided with a visit from my parents – or, as the daughter calls them, Nain and Pops – and Uncle Mike.
We bought and decorated a tree, suffered through another Welsh defeat in the rugby, had a lovely dinner out – and a lengthy, relaxing brunch the following morning. It was a lovely, lovely weekend, and now, my house looks like this:
As if that wasn’t enough fun, the Daughter also got invited to a birthday party for two of her friends. It was, in theory, a Pirate Party. Of course, the daughter insisted on going as a princess. (I lobbied hard for pirate princess, to no avail. She wanted to be the pink, flouncy Disney princess. Just like every other day.)
But by the time the party was over, and returned home with a pirate hat and a temporary tattoo in her party bag, her stance on the pirate princess thing had shifted:
She insisted on wearing the hat for breakfast the next day, too. The tattoo, I’m just thrilled to report, still hasn’t worn off.
But the fun wasn’t over yet. On Monday, the daughter had three of her friends, their younger siblings, and their mums over for the afternoon. I cunningly persuaded them that they really wanted to make me some Christmas bunting to add to my decorations, and there was gluing and sequins and pompoms galore. Also doughnuts.
Then, just when I thought we couldn’t take any more Christmas fun, we woke up yesterday to an unexpected winter wonderland! Not sure where the snow came from – it wasn’t forecast – and it’s already turned icy and treacherous, but it was fun while it lasted. We made a snow baby (the daughter got bored before I could make a fully fledged snowman) and wrote Christmas cards while watching Christmas movies and drinking hot chocolate.
So really, how can I worry about unwrapped presents (and, possibly, unbought ones) and all the cards I didn’t get round to writing yesterday? Or obsess about our travel plans and how we might not have enough warm clothes? Why worry about the husband’s birthday/Christmas party that we haven’t actually organised yet?
No, this year, I’m just enjoying the Christmas spirit.
(Of course, with the aforemention party, two Christmas concerts, three dinners out, a four hour journey to Wales and five birthdays still standing between me and Christmas, not to mention a book or two to finish, I’ll let you know if I’m still feeling so jolly come Christmas Eve…)